#small alphabet beads

[gibbearish]

omg im gonna make my best friend. a mini plant hangar for at her desk at work

[washeduphazbin]

Adam NSFW Alphabet

Here ya go, ya filthy simps.

First time doing a nsfw alphabet so if it’s … bad I’m sorry. Lmk how to improve tho

--Minors DNI--

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At the beginning of the relationship, I don't think this man knew what aftercare was; I mean, there's a reason Lilith left him. Let's be honest. It would take a learning curve and a lot of explaining from you about your needs after sex until he'd realize how important it really was.

Once he got the idea down, he'd be religious with it every time after sex, he'd ask, "What the fuck you needed to feel extra sexy."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

What isn't his favorite body part? Toss up between Boobs, Ass, and Thighs, he loves them all. If you held a gun to his head, he'd say your boobs, big or small, he would NOT CARE. He wants them in his mouth.

Small boobie queens, he'd squeeze them like little stress balls when he's annoyed or anxious.

Big boobie queens, pillows. Need I say more. Calls them bazoingas unironically.

Type of guy to stand next to you talking to Lute and reach out and just squeeze your tits, letting out a HONK. Lute would roll her eyes with a snicker as you flushed, while Adam would look at you with the biggest shit-eating grin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This guy's cum is thick. milky and warm.

Beads at the tip when you turn him on and likes to cum deep inside you, filling you entirely or on your tits or ass.

Will stare hotly as both your cum spills out of you, as you whimper and whine, usually making him ready for round two.

When you suck him off, he enjoys watching it spill from your lips instead of you swallowing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Adam has one main secret (idk if it qualifies as dirty) but enjoys genuine praise for things he feels proud of accomplishing. It's not like you praising him for exterminating sinners; it's just simple, innocent praise when he does something particularly sweet for you.

A big softie, but only in private and only to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a fuckboy. Sorry, not sorry, he just is. HOWEVER, it doesn't mean he is a star at sex. He's decent at first, but there's a reason Lucifer stole two of his wives. His biggest gripe was he didn't want to reciprocate head, but you broke him off that relatively quick when you squeezed your thighs around his skull for the first time, practically double-killing him.

It was fuckin' hot.

You both have a lot to learn, but you learn together, and the sex is still angelic.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has two:

He enjoys cowboy/girl because he's lazy and likes to watch your tits bounce in front of his face.

He also enjoys doggy style, so he can see your ass bounce as he pounds into you, biting your ass cheeks as he goes and slapping.

G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Goofy. He does not shut his mouth; he always has something to say as he's getting intimate with you. It's safe to say he never stops talking, which means he's very vocal about moans, whines, and grunts. It's safe to say he has no filter regarding you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Pretty basic, but the carpet matches the drapes. However, he could be better- groomed. It's safe to say he's definitely hairy, not just there but all over.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Although Adam is definitely more goofy, as discussed earlier, I think sex is intimate and essential to him. While he can be silly, he works his ass and dick off to make sure it's the best sex you've ever had. Oddly enough, when he's alone with you and in a soft mood, he always romantically initiates sex.

Slow and sensual kisses lead to heated make-outs and biting before turning into more.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think Adam is on the more hypersexual side of the spectrum if you see sex as a spectrum like I tend to. So, if you're not around for some reason, he will probably be cranking one out sometimes more than once a day. Honestly, even if you are around and you're not feeling sex at the moment, he'll pout, but ultimately, go watch whatever heavens' equivalent to porn.

(or videos he's recorded of the two of you ;) )

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think Adam would have three main kinks:

Breeding - "All of humanity came from this dick."

Mommy Kink - need I explain more? Dominant women are such a significant turn-on for him; one look when you're in Dommy Mommy mode, and he's on his knees.

Role-Play- If you don't think he'd make you cosplay and act like Sinner who is trying to redeem themselves just for him to role play fucking redemption into you, your opinion is just incorrect. Sorry.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and Everywhere. He doesn't care; if people see good let them know you're both hot as fuck. They're probably green with envy.

His favorite place, though, is on his desk in his office. The thrill of getting caught lights a fire in him that can't be snuffed out without burying himself in your cunt.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I feel like we discussed this one a lot, but I can add a few more. When you're mad at something Hell did or another resident of Heaven. Also, when defending him, think of the "He asked for no pickles" meme, but it's you asking for Adam.

Oh, and of course, you are in any type of lingerie, punk rock, or revealing clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Piss, Poop, ya know the classics. He'd also never want to seriously hurt you, maybe a light slap here and there, maybe a little choking, but if he ever hurts you in the act, he's flaccid so quick and on you like a mother hen.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As stated earlier, his preference is receiving; he loves the way you look between his thighs and his thick cock in your mouth. Drool and pre-cum leaking from your lips.

But he has gotten more open to giving and isn't...great, but you're teaching him how to work his tongue and fingers.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He sets a fast and rough pace, hits you deep in your canal, and kisses your cervix, almost like he's trying to hit your womb. He's a feral beast honestly once he starts fucking you and it'd take an act of God to get him to stop.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

All the time though not super preferred, He likes to tease you as much as he can before letting you cum, but most of the time you have sex, it's out of the house. It's a constant struggle to keep your hands off one another and, more often than not, sneak off for a quick fuck somewhere before rejoining a meeting, hangout or if Adam needs immediate stress relief.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

So long as it's not on his list of hard no's, I feel like Adam will try anything once if you ask. He's for sure a risk taker and wants you to challenge him with something new, but in the end prefers classic sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can last only two rounds, but they usually last. A very long time because he likes to be a little shit.

T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own toys, and if you have them and use them, he will absolutely be jealous of them and attempt to make you trash them. But if you say no, he'll respect it. Just be extremely salty.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he's a brat. It is so unfair that it will test you pretty much through the entire process. He enjoys seeing how much he can overstimulate and edge you before he finally fucks you raw.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So fucking loud. God bless your neighbors if you have any. His groans and moans could shake the entire house, and your whines, whimpers, and pleas for 'harder' aren't any better.

He also laughs a lot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he loves to mark you up to prove to everyone that you are his and his alone. I think it would start with a shit ton of hickies, then a joke from Lute saying he should just collar you until he actually does. It's classy and elegant, matches his angelic robes, and has spikes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

So I absolutely headcanon him with a dad bod (sorry, not sorry); I think he also has significant arm and chest hair and a particularly drool-worthy happy trail. He's squishy and you love it even though he can be a little insecure about it at times, you just tell him you love him no matter his shape or size.

He is your Teddy Bear.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HYPERSEXUAL. HIGH. THIS MAN WANTS SOME FUCK.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Passes out quickly afterward and can't go more than two rounds max. Likes to sleep right after but has learned to check on you first before passing out on your tits or chest.

[kyuuviix]

hi lol here more laios content

NSFW - CW //

rough fucking, slight mentions of biting, deep penetration ig, unprotected, overstim !!

afab reader btw !!#*(!";;!?

okay enjoy

you grind your teeth together, molars clenched tight. your feet were steady on their tippy toes, trying to retain your own balance as another slam against your ass makes you reel.

your knees buckle as his dick kisses your womb once again, gaining a sharp whimper in return.

"shhhh, shhh, it's okay..." laios cooed softly against the shell of your ear, both of his arms tightly wrapped over your tummy, hefty balls smacking your puffy pussy lips with each thorough thrust.

your back arched away from him, tears running down your face. his fat tip scrapes against the mushy spot in your hole- your legs pathetically giving out.

"o-oh my-gu-ha!"

your words were turned to gibberish, a thin sheen coating your bruised lips as one of his large hands fanned out over your lower abdomen, pressing down softly.

oh shit.

you could only see white for a solid second, his other hand gripping the fat on your hip to hold you up.

his thrusts stuttered, a crackled whine broke from between his parted lips, tipping his head forward against the crevice of your neck. the heat of his breath coated your skin, hurried whispers following closely.

"mmm, 'm getting close, s-ooo good..."

sandy hair tickled your clammy skin as he perched you up, teeth slowly sinking into your warm flesh.

then, his hand on your stomach pushed down even more, a sloppy squelch following as slick trailed down your inner thighs, and he held still- raising a bicep over your ribs.

you could feel it. your mind was shattering beyond recognition, his cock bottoming out inside of you, twitching endlessly as he filled you to the brim.

it was disgustingly warm. made you feel all cradled and full, head lulled into that dreamy headspace you always ended up in when you two had sex, but this felt different.

the heat was feverish, tingling up your spine as your tears of pure pleasure beaded at your waterline, making you clamp your eyes shut.

you couldn't stop shaking- it felt like your orgasm had stretched out to last hours. you didn't even notice how you two were now cooped up in bed, laios nuzzling into your neck and praising you with sweet nothings.

"you okay?" his voice was still so soft, fingers running over your jawline as your eyes fluttered open.

"did i hurt you anywhere? are you comfortable?"

you responded with as small nod, curling your feet into the sheets. you were floating on cloud 9.

"'m fine," you gave a slight hoarse chuckle, twisting onto your side. "just a bit hungry."

at that, his eyes gave a small gleam, before he took two fingers and dipped them between the mess between your thighs, holding the mixture over your tongue.

"give it a taste, then."

-

idk how i feel bout this one i got a bit uninspired and drabbled this in boredom 😞 okay im probably gonna be a nsfw alphabet with him before i twist around and start writing that prompt up

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

I was reading your Bruce Wayne alphabet and I saw that you had mentioned cuddlefucking and dom/sub on his kink list! Was wondering if you’d be willing to do a post where the reader edges Bruce while they’re cuddling or something like that?

Just Reader kissing Bruce all over and praising him after a hard mission making him feel head fuzzy mixed with Reader making slow love to Bruce, edging him until he’s overwhelmed (in a good way) and maybe crying a bit.

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Drabble

Ever since I wrote my bruce wayne kinktober prompt I’ve been thinking about him being submissive so much. I think Bruce would thrive with a partner to take care of him sometimes.

I wrote this with the reader being big and thick in mind, think those buff guys with a layer of chub over the muscle, but you can imagine it however you want.

The blanket was hot on top of you, it was one of the thickly woven cotton ones, made from some material that probably cost more than you could imagine. But even as sweat beaded on your brow, you simply pulled Bruce closer to your soft chest. He was laying with his back towards you, your stomach pressed into the arch of his muscular back as your arms wove around him and held him tightly.

Small huffs and muffled whines left him as one of your hands worked up and down his slick length, the heavy blanket barely moving with the motion as you pressed kisses against the bruises that littered his shoulder and neck. A needy noise left him as you nibbled at a bruise on the underside of his chin, where some goon had clocked him with a crowbar the other day. The slight pain from the bruise, mixed with the almost euphoric feeling of being held as your hand worked his length had Bruce feeling like he was gonna melt.

He had been working on cases nonstop for days, in the end you had pulled him into your shared bedroom and pulled the heavy blanket over the two of you. It had started as cuddling, as you knew your partner loved that more than anything, though he never said it out loud. But soon you found your clothes being chucked out from under the blanket, Bruces back sticking to your front from the sweat that developed from your closeness and the warmth it developed.

Maybe Bruce was dehydrated, as he panted and bit back a louder whine as you drew him near the edge before releasing your slick hand from his cock, his hips bucking from the loss of touch. It was a process you repeated a couple more times, your voice thick with praise as you kept kissing his back and neck, mumbling into his ear as you built him up only to let him fall again, not giving him the release he craved.

It was only when Bruce melted into the bed and his noises stopped being so choked, when he turned his head to hopefully catch your lips with his, when you knew he was floating slowly away to a lighter mental state that you took pity in him. The jerks and twists of your hand grew more purposeful as his noises rose in pitch, tears beading in his blue eyes as his hips twitched and his thighs tensed.

But like this he was so good, he couldn’t finish without your approval, so even as he whined and cried, he kept being good for you. It was only when you finally mumbled into his ear that he could cum that Bruce did, spilling into your palm with a shaky moan, his entire body twitching and shuddering as you dragged it out as long as possible, until his whimpers and whines became those of overstimulation.

He let out a sad noise as you crawled out from under the blanket to get what you needed to clean the two of you up, but you knew neither of you would enjoy waking up to dirty sheets, so it was a small sacrifice. But when the worst of your and Bruces sweat had been wiped off with a cloth, your hands washed, and a new blanket draped over your lovers scarred body, you crawled in beside him again.

Bruce almost arched into your touch, like a touch starved cat, melting against your pecs as he gripped onto your softer middle, a loud sigh leaving him as he seemed to melt against you. You swore he would have started purring if he had the ability, especially as you ran your hand through his hair and scratched his scalp, the already loose body growing heavier against you.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I know Color has given Killer thousands of rubix cubes, puzzles, and picky pads.

It’s to keep him stimulated and fulfilling ST2’s needs for “something new.” ST2 wasn’t made to be idle, he needs to keep his mind and hands working—absorbing information like a sponge, even if his apathy and dissociation probably means a much harder time paying attention and retaining that information—and Color understands that so he tries to help him find safe ways to do that in a way that doesn’t involve the poor man coming home to his friend covered in blood and possibly missing limbs.

The two of them probably engage in parallel play a lot; while Killer’s picking the small toy duckies and various colorful alphabet beads out of various ridiculously shaped resin molds, Color’s sorting and organizing them into jars by shape and color.

And later the two of them will go out to buy more resin and molds to make more picky pads and redo the activity in various forms. The different beads and mold shapes is new enough each time for Killer, and the repeated routine activity and organizing works wonders for Color’s autistic ass. Sometimes they’ll switch the roles around when Killer gets bored and definitely after he tries to eat a few of the beads.

I think Killer would enjoy the act of creation. It fulfills the need for something new of course, but it appeases his more moral personality in the form of ST1 to know his hands are able to do more than destroy and murder.

Those hands know a thousand ways to coerce confessions—both false and true—out of many monsters, but now they’re also learning to wield wood into the shape of a red panda and how to create string necklaces.

While Color’s watching his favorite comfort shows for the thousandths time, Killer’s intensely focused on a solving a word puzzle while listening to Color infodump about his favorite character in the show.

Sometimes they try to sit in silence but that quickly gets boring to Killer and he runs the risk of literally trying to disassemble his body parts, and Color gets overstimulated by too much noise, so they compromise by letting Color set the pace of the yapping.

Killer is the professional yapper in this household, but he finds listening to Color’s voice soothing and he enjoys learning more about his person. He has never found another to be as fascinating.

[kusanagihaku]

and everything you do

⭢ haku x mc, 2.5k

y is for yellow. ˖⁺‧₊⟡ alphabet series | ao3 insp by this haku fanart!

The doors of the Galaxy Express hiss open, and you stumble in. 

You feel Haku’s weight slip off your shoulders as you gently lower him onto the plush of the closest red seat. He collapses, unceremoniously, onto the worn velvet, blinking slowly up at you with unfocused eyes as you right him. 

“Nearly there,” you murmur. You brush his hair away from his forehead. “On the train home now.” 

He closes his eyes in response. 

At least the bleeding seems to have stopped, you think. The cut on his cheekbone is no longer beading with fresh blood, dried smear instead catching on the pad of your thumb as you run it over the soft of his cheek. Small wins. 

You make sure he’s sitting semi-upright before moving to sit next to him. Before you can, however, his hand shoots up to stop you. 

With surprising strength, his arm winds around your waist, tugging you to him so hard you can’t help but lose your balance, knees buckling and tumbling into his lap. 

You yelp softly in shock, but Haku’s arms stay firmly anchored around you. His other hand comes up to grasp at the front of your blazer, holding you in place as he tips his head forward to rest on your shoulder. 

You soften. 

He must be really exhausted. 

Unsurprising, really, with the number of all-nighters he must have pulled over the last week. Where the missions of the other houses are often action-heavy and return you battered and bruised to the drafty embrace of the cathedral, Hotarubi’s missions are instead research-heavy, requiring Haku and Subaru to stay up nights on end in preparation. You’ve seen first-hand the amount of work Haku pours into every mission they go on, flipping through tomes of books way past moonset. Sometimes Subaru walks you back to the cathedral when your work ends past midnight, and you return the next morning to see Haku still in the same spot you left him. 

It’s partially why you find yourself gravitating towards Hotarubi missions – you’re more useful hitting the books for Haku than you are hitting… well, hitting anything with your fists. 

(The other half of the reason remains shrouded in a vague mist of Hotarubi nice, Subaru sweet, biggest fucking crush on Haku, Zenji fun… you try not to think too much about it.) 

You reach up to pat his head gently. “I’ll text Jiro to come take a look at your ankle, alright?” 

“Mmph,” Haku says. He shifts slightly, so that his chin is tucked into the crook of your neck instead. The grip on your blazer loosens. “No need, I’ll be alright.” 

Any closer his lips get to you and he’d be able to read the race of your heart through the thrum of your skin alone; you hope he doesn’t notice. 

You tsk, instead. “I know you ghouls heal at like, double the speed or whatever, but I still want to make sure it’ll heal properly.” 

Haku snorts. It sounds pained, still. His breath tickles your ear lobe as he says, “You don’t have to. I have you to lean on, don’t I?” 

You sigh. The ghouls may have double the strength, but they have double the stubbornness, too. “I’ll just get Jiro to bring the salve that Professor Nicolas used on me on my first day, alright?” 

Haku’s arms tighten around you at that. There is a small smile in his voice as he says, “How the tables have turned.” 

You tilt your head.

“Me bringing you to Darkwick on the Galaxy Express way back then because of your injured ankle…” Haku continues, laugh breathy against your ear. “Now it’s your turn to bring me home, huh?” 

You think you may be imagining it, but there is a gentle press of lips against the curve of your neck. It sends a warm shiver down your spine and a warm flush up your cheeks; you hurry to cover it up by shifting your arm and reaching into your pocket for your phone. 

“Wish you were sitting on my lap the first time, though,” Haku murmurs, and your brain short-circuits. 

“Um,” you say, intelligently. Your fingers fumble the password to your phone, failing to unlock it, and Haku snorts again. 

“Sorry, princess.” 

He doesn’t move though. You start to think he’s not sorry at all.

“I’ll, um.” You swipe at your phone screen again, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and the sudden overwhelming awareness of Haku’s arms holding you flush against him. “I’ll just.” 

You navigate to your texting app, with some difficulty, and as soon as your app opens Haku laughs, drowsily. “My chat is pinned.” 

Right. You forgot you did that. 

You bite your lip. “I, um, pinned it for the mission.” 

You didn’t, and you know Haku knows it too. 

There’s no mistaking it this time – you feel the soft of Haku’s lips smile against the spot where your neck meets your collar. “Mmhmm.” 

You don’t know if you’re going to combust first from embarrassment or from the way his breath is fanning out against your neck. 

But it’s a good reminder that he’s still alive, albeit in pain, and his breath evens out, eventually, as you tap out a quick missive to Jiro to meet you at the train station…

The Galaxy Express announces its arrival at the station with a soft chime. 

You awake with a start – you must have dozed off for a few minutes in the warmth of Haku’s embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady rocking of the train. Oh, to fall asleep in Haku’s arms under other circumstances– 

The train chimes again, and you stand up, gently pulling yourself free from the lock of his arms around you, before turning around to help Haku stand as the train pulls into the station. 

As soon as you get Haku to his feet, his weight warm against your shoulder, you spot the ever-reliable bird’s nest of hair hovering outside the train station, and the even-more-reliable ghoul floating behind him. “Jiro!” 

Zenji floats immediately to your side as you help Haku out of the train. “My goodness, Haku! What have you gotten yourself into!” 

You bite your lip and shoot him an apologetic glance. Can’t answer him now, with Jiro so close, but Zenji just nods in understanding, choosing instead to fret over Haku’s injuries. 

It takes a moment to navigate out of the Galaxy Express and down the steps of the train station to the sound of Zenji’s chatter, but the two of you soon stand in front of Jiro as he surveys your mess.

“Honour student,” Jiro nods. “Kusanagi.” 

His eyes sweep over the surface cut on Haku’s cheek, before choosing to attend to the ankle injury. The bottle of whitish-green salve is already in his hand as he kneels down. He prods a little, with the cold tips of his fingers, then spreads the salve around where you think (?) Haku’s ankle is swollen. 

Jiro stands up at last, capping the bottle of salve. “It doesn’t look too bad. The swelling isn’t as bad as you made it out to be; it looks like he should be able to walk back by himself.” 

You sigh in relief. “Thanks, Jiro.” 

Jiro just shrugs, tucking the bottle into your hand. “If you didn’t say he was limping I wouldn’t have known it was injured at all.” 

You narrow your eyes as the pieces click together in your head, but before you can turn to Haku Jiro retrieves a few bandages from his pocket and thrusts them at you. 

“Some bandages for his face,” Jiro says. “Normally I’d put them on for patients, but he seems like he’d vastly prefer you doing it for him.” 

You turn to glare at Haku, but he just grins, brightly. “Spot-on as always, Jiro.” 

Jiro merely nods, before turning to stride away. 

“Thanks, Jiro!” You call out after the ghoul, before turning to Haku with a huff. 

“You–“

“I told you not to call him,” Haku points out, eyes twinkling, and you huff again. 

“I thought you were injured!” 

“I am!” He grins, and leans against you. “God, I’m so tired, it’s so hard to walk, my ankle hurts–“

You burst out laughing, in spite of yourself. “You’re so annoying.” 

And if you slowly make your way back with Haku’s arm still wound around your shoulder and his laugh brushing against your ear, limping closer and closer to the grey drizzle of Hotarubi, well– that’s nobody’s business but your own. 

(Neither of you notice Zenji fading back into transparency, adoring smile gracing his face as he watches the two of you bicker. He has a new idea for a love story to write, after all, and a brother to tail.)

-

Haku winces in pain the moment the antiseptic hits his skin. 

You bite your lip, pulling the cotton gauze away from his cheek. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head minutely from where he is laid in your lap. “It’s alright. I can take it.” 

You dab around the wound, gentler this time. “You’re gonna have to keep the bandage on for at least a day.” 

“As long as it doesn’t scar,” Haku responds. He blinks slowly up at you, lazy smile spreading across his face. “Damn, if I knew all I needed to do to lay on your lap was to get a little scratch on my cheek I would have done it sooner.” 

You flush, and bop his nose with your index finger. “Stop smiling. I can’t clean your wound.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and bites down on his lips. The twinkle of mirth in his eyes don’t disappear, though, and it is only a matter of seconds before he opens his mouth again. “Will you give it a kiss after?” 

Startled, you press a little harder on his wound than you intend to, and he hisses in response. “Sorry!” 

Haku groans, hand coming up to brush his cheek before looking up at you like a wounded puppy. “That much against giving me a kiss? I’m hurt.” 

You bite back the thrum of your heart and will your eyes not to flicker to the soft pink of his lips, warm in the bruise-blue of Hotarubi evening. 

“If you’re well enough to flirt, you’re well enough to clean your own wound,” you threaten lightly, instead, and watch as Haku’s eyes crinkle up in a golden smile that sinks right into the butterfly swirl of your stomach. 

You can’t help the responding smile that surfaces on your own cheeks either – there has always been something in the sunlight of his laugh that bubbles through the map of your veins, bright and warm and magnetic. 

God, you’re so gone for him. 

You hastily drop his gaze and drop the gauze, and unwrap the large plaster Jiro gave you. “Stay still.” 

“As you say,” Haku murmurs, then much to the relief of your one remaining braincell, shuts his eyes. 

As you manoeuvre the length of the plaster onto the scratch on his cheek, you thank your past self for turning on the small lamp near the foot of his futon mattress. The scratch looks deeper than you thought in the warm light, an angry red that will scab over only in a few days. You’ll have to grab some hydrocolloid cream from your own stash to make sure it heals well. Maybe you can bring it over tomorrow. 

You run your fingers over the edges of the plaster, gently pressing the adhesive into place before brushing his fringe away from his eyelashes. He still looks exhausted, to be honest, purplish-grey bruising under his eyes both a haunting of sleepless nights past and a promise of sleepless nights to come.

You wonder, for the thousandth time, if there is anything else you can do to help shoulder his burden just as much as he is trying to shoulder yours. 

“If you stare so much you gotta start paying me in kisses, princess,” Haku says softly, smiling, eyes still closed. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing your palm against his injured cheek. 

“I wasn’t–“ 

Haku hums, amusement threading through exhaustion. He doesn’t open his eyes. “Liar.” 

He intertwines his fingers with yours, shifting your hand so he can press his lips against your palm. The light brush of his kiss against your skin sends your heart racing; the fond gesture fuels the sudden whirlwind that has grown its new home in your throat. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.” 

You open your mouth to retort, but come up empty. God, you thought you were subtle, but everyone and their mothers and apparently Haku himself knows about your big fat crush on him. 

So much for keeping it a secret and living out a quiet rest of the year, really.

His voice is low, words sleep-warm and slurring as he continues, “I could love you like that, you know. I want to. If you’d let me.” 

The drum of the rain against the wooden veranda outside intensifies, filling the space between the both of you. The creaks in the Hotarubi ceilings expand between you and what you are too afraid to have. 

Can you? Can you really, with the sword of your curse hanging over your head? It already feels like you’re taking too much from him, just like this, wrapped in the secret moments you share and tucked into liminal pockets of time you steal between missions. His head on your lap, your hand in his. It feels too greedy, to take what he so readily offers. To agree with him feels like you’re reaching for too much. 

And yet you do not move your hand. 

Haku breathes out. It is too light to be a sigh, too heavy to be anything else but letting go. “Sing me a lullaby, will you?” 

You blink. “Uh-“ 

He settles your interlaced fingers on his stomach. His wrist is still mottled yellow and green from where he blocked an anomaly from flying at you two missions ago; you resist the urge to run your free hand over the bruising. His voice is slow and sleepy as he mumbles a, “Just want to hear your voice, princess. Please?” 

How easily you fold, whenever it is Haku asking. 

When you begin humming your voice is a little shaky, a build of uncertainty and self-consciousness, and you nearly stop if not for the reassuring squeeze of Haku’s hand on yours. You hum through the opening bars of a song whose name you cannot quite remember but is familiar all the same, a star-dusted melody has been trodden into the paths of your brain long before its lyrics floated away. 

The slightly off-tune off-time of your humming melts into the grey of the rain and the warmth of the room; you feel Haku slowly slipping out of consciousness, barely aware of how your hand has come up to rest against the green silken threads of his hair.  

And you know, you know I love you so. 

Haku’s breathing evens out. You skim your thumb over the back of his hand. 

You know I love you so. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Eight:

pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader

rating: E (18+ only, mild mentions of nerves/anxiety, mostly just cutesy summery fluff, alcohol consumption, shower sex, unprotected piv, these two just don’t stop, do they??)

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | playlist

— May 27, 2000 —

The auditorium quickly grew stuffy once everyone began filing in, eager to find good seats for the upcoming 5th grade promotion ceremony. The sweltering and humid air from this summer’s first heat wave snuck in, even with the loud, industrial fans attempting to keep the gymnasium cool by blowing it out.

You stood in the even hotter back room of the auditorium with the school’s entire fifth grade class—about 150 tweens running around, excited for the summer to officially begin. Fanning your face with the ceremony program, you relished in the air hitting the bead of sweat that trickled from your scalp down your neck and throat, your eyes nervously scanning the incoming crowd for your favorite fifth grader and her father, the two cutting it short on time.

Tommy had already arrived, taking his seat in the front row beside both of Joel’s parents. You made sure to go over and quickly greet them as soon as you saw them, Mary giving you a tight squeeze while both of the Miller boys simply offered you a smile.

“Where’s Joel and Sarah?” You turned to Tommy, receiving a chuckle and a shrug in response.

“Runnin’ late like always,” he replied in his signature Texas drawl. “Think Joel got a stain on his shirt when we were at Whataburger and had to go home to change.”

“Well, that’s what he gets for not inviting me out with you guys,” you feigned sass with a smirk, knowing that your obligations here at the school prevented you from attending the gathering even if they’d offered.

“Hey, I think they want us to corral the kids in the back,” John, your overly friendly co-worker and fellow fifth-grade teacher, tapped your elbow and stole you from the conversation.

“Alright.” You nodded at him before turning back to Joel’s family. “Well, I’ll see you guys after the ceremony?

“Yep. Oh, and good luck on your speech, sweetie,” Mary called out and you waved at her in response.

Now, the clock was ticking, the ceremony beginning in less than three minutes. You knew you could postpone it a bit if you wanted, maybe get another five or ten minutes of room for Sarah to show, but you remained hopeful that the Millers would show up before you had to stall. Thankfully, just as the clock hit five, Joel and Sarah came jogging in through the back door.

“There you are,” you whispered as they found you, hugging Sarah quickly before ordering her to find her place in the alphabetically ordered line of students. “Yeah, between Michael and Nessa.”

“Sorry,” Joel whispered as you returned to the front of the line again, leaning in to quickly kiss you on the cheek, his hand resting on the small of your back. You hushed his apology and gave his chin a loving pinch. “M’gonna go find a seat, alright?”

“Tommy saved you a chair up front,” you whispered, pointing towards the front row.

Joel flashed you a smile before rushing off into the now-hushed auditorium, Pomp and Circumstance beginning to play through the shitty speakers. After watching him go, you turned around to greet the line leaders with a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

After a confident nod from the kids, you gave the thumbs-up to John who was waiting further into the room. Soon, the kids started their march up the aisles of metal folding chairs to the beat, smiling and waving at their parents hurrying to try to capture a good picture from the audience.

You hurried to the front of the auditorium to guide the kids into their seats, assuring that they didn’t throw off the entire seating plan, and therefore throw off the entire order of the program. While supervising, your eyes found Joel’s in the audience, his smile content as he watched Sarah walk down the aisle in her polyester cap and gown. You’d never get tired of watching Joel love his daughter the way every little girl deserves to be loved by their father—the way you and so many others wished you were.

With all the kids now seated, you stepped up the stairs at the side stage to join the rest of the fifth grade teachers, principle, and superintendent. When you took a seat to allow the student-body president to come up, make the introductory remarks and recite the Pledge of Allegiance, your eyes found Joel’s again, this time finding him already staring at you. Your friendly smile quickly turned into a grin, forcing you to hide behind your program. The Pledge acted as a distraction from his shit-eating grin that you know was still pointed at you.

“Now, we’d like to invite our fifth-grade teachers up to make some remarks directly to their students.” The principle called you up one by one, leaving you for last. Smiling and shaking her hand, you accepted your place at the podium, the bright stage lights blinding you from most of the audience, but Sarah and Joel’s sweet smiles were bright and clear as you looked into the crowd, finding them looking up at you.

Your once smoothly practiced speech was now stuttered, Joel’s eyes fixed on you making you more nervous than the entire audience combined. You stumbled your way through it before blushing back to your seat and shaking your head at him in the audience, clapping for you.

After a round of speeches from the higher ups at the school, the principle began handing out certificates, the rest of you waiting on the side to shake the child’s hand and allow their parent to take a picture. When Sarah’s name was called, you took a deep breath, trying to keep your tears at bay as you watched this little girl that you’d grown to love like a daughter walk up to you with her certificate in hand. Turning towards the audience, Joel stood near the stage with a disposable camera pressed to his eye.

“Say cheese!” he called and you and Sarah obliged, grinning through your tears as you hugged her to your side. “Beautiful!” he complimented, moving to the side stage to help his daughter down the stairs and walk her back to her chair while you went back to work.

After the ceremony had ended and your obligations ended, you hurried out to the courtyard to find the Miller’s gift table. Joel had Sarah tucked into his side in the shade of a willow tree, a balloon tied to her wrist as she talked to Jessie while Joel talked to Jessie’s mother. You walked up to the table fifteen or so feet away to greet his mother and he flashed you a smile, clearly trying to wrap his conversation up so he could talk to you instead. Just as the conversation seemed to die with Jessie’s mother, Jessie’s father came over and started it back up.

“You look so beautiful in this light, sweetheart!” Mary nearly squealed as she turned to look at you, your face illuminated in the golden summer light paired with the shade of the willow tree. “Let me take your picture.”

“Oh, please,” you chuckled, waving off her compliment as a joke, but then she was reaching for the camera, winding it up before clicking a few different shots of you. The clicking of the camera seemed to catch Joel’s attention, his eyes now unabashedly fixed on you rather than the couple yapping his ear off.

“Excuse me,” Joel excused himself from the conversation and let Sarah go run off with Jessie, much to her delight, his eyes and smile fixed on you as you talked to his mother like you were old friends.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile, keeping your feelings tamed around his parents. Joel, however, didn’t seem to care. Slipping his arm around your waist, he placed a soft but sweet kiss on your lips.

“Hey,” he greeted back finally.

“We’re at an elementary school, Joel, must you feel up your girlfriend in front of everybody?” Joel’s father, Paul, spoke, effectively scaring you off of any more PDA. Joel gave you a frown and attempted to pull you back into his side, but you shook your head. Joel nodded and allowed you to go off to deliver cards to the rest of your student’s tables while he dealt with his father.

“She’s intimidated by you already, pop, you know that.” Joel scolded his father with a hand perched on his hip, the older man shrugging in indifference.

“That ain’t my fault,” he argued, earning a scoff from his eldest son.

“He’s just extra grumpy ‘cause it’s hot out today,” Mary interjected into the conversation, apologizing on her husband’s behalf.

“Dad, when can we go home for the party?” Sarah came running up to her father, the remnants of a popsicle turning her lips red.

“Whenever you want,” he replied, his eyes scanning the courtyard for you, finding you talking with John, a look of pure discomfort on your face. “Hey, remember how we worked on aim last week?” Joel grabbed the soccer ball beneath his daughter’s feet and held it up, pointing at you and the man clearly bugging you. “Think you got it? Don’t wanna hit the wrong person now.”

“Oh, I got it,” Sarah grinned and lined herself up for the kick, using all the confidence and skill Joel had instilled in her over the years, and went for it.

The ball cut through the courtyard like a bullet, hitting John square in the ass. Joel had to hide his glee over not only his daughter’s amazing shot, but John’s whining. You locked eyes with him from across the yard and gave him a playful head shake before excusing yourself and coming back over.

“You two—“ You pointed at Joel and Sarah, the duo snickering like children when you approached them. “Could have hit me, or somebody else—“

“But I didn’t…because I’m amazing,” Sarah countered, and you couldn’t find it in you to disagree.

“You think that got the message across?” Joel asked, nudging his chin to gesture behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see John pouting and staring back at the two of you.

“I don’t know, he’s persistent.” You turned back to Joel and gave him a smile while Sarah snuck back off to find her best friend. “Why? You jealous, Miller?”

“Very,” he admitted freely, reaching for your hand and using it to pull you against his chest. “Don’t wanna lose you to Matthew McConaughey.”

“You’re not going to lose me to anyone. I’m perfectly happy right here with Joel Miller.” Joel’s smile spread so wide that his dimples made a rare appearance, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in to kiss you. Allowing him a subtle peck, you held him back to prevent him from getting too handsy with you. “How about we leave? Start the real party at your place where I can kiss you freely without my bosses staring at me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded and pulled away from you in a show of strength, walking over to the gift table. Joel ordered Tommy to help carry the gift bags and cards from Sarah’s friends before collecting his daughter. “Alright, ma, we’ll see you at the house?”

“Yep, but we gotta go swing by ours first and pick up the pies I baked,” she drawled back as her and Paul got up to follow you all out to the parking lot.

You bid the Millers goodbye in the parking lot before heading to your car, having driven to the ceremony on your own. You needed to swing by your place anyways, your dress now much too formal for the laid-back pool party ahead of you tonight.

Quickly hurrying inside, you changed into your favorite and most conservative black one-piece swimsuit and a pair of denim shorts. Next, you threw on a new layer of lotion and sunscreen, touched up your makeup, before finally packing your overnight bag in case you decided to stay over at Joel’s place tonight, which you were already sure you were going to do.

By the time you made it over to his place, Joel was greeting his cousins as they arrived before you with their families. You watched him watch you from the sidewalk, a smirk tugging at your lips as he rushed his cousins into the house so that he could greet you quicker.

“Finally,” he playfully scolded as you met him at the door, his arms wrapping around your waist and giving you a squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re just sweet on me,” you retorted with a grin.

“Damn right.” His lips pressed against yours deeper than earlier tonight, no one around anymore to scold the two of you for being eager. You hummed against his lips as he held you there, swaying you on his front step for all his neighbors to see as they wandered over for the big party.

“Nice to see you in love,” Mrs. Green, a retired teacher and recent widow that lived across the street, came over and beamed at the two of you as she arrived for the party. Joel let you head inside while he greeted the new guests with friendly smiles, mumbling something about the ladies “embarrassin’” him.

Outside, you found his backyard to be full of people both new and familiar, but mostly new. You awkwardly tucked yourself in the corner as you debated going up to some of his cousins to introduce yourself, but worried that perhaps Joel would want to do that himself, or maybe not at all. It had only been two and a half months since you started seeing each other, after all.

“What the hell are you doin’ hidin’ over here?” Tommy found you and laughed, shaking his head at you before pointing across the pool at the coolers. “Go get yourself something to drink and have fun. Us Millers are simple people, it ain’t gonna be hard to win us over.”

You chuckled and followed his advice, weaving your way through the packed backyard to the coolers to grab yourself a beer, the crispness of a good, icy Corona making your mouth water.

“Knew I’d find you by the booze,” Joel wrapped his arms around your waist as you lifted a beer out of the ice. You turned in his arms and held the beer out for him.

“You got a bottle opener?” Joel nodded and reached into his pocket for his keys, quickly popping the cap off before handing your drink back to you. “Tommy sent me over because he saw how nervous I was.”

“Nervous?” he asked, reaching into the cooler for himself. “What are you nervous about?”

“Meeting your family, I guess,” you shrugged, giving him a shy smile. “Want them to like me.”

“Baby,” he chuckled and tilted his head at you, pulling you into his arms. “You’re the most educated person here, you’re the kindest person here, the funniest, the best lookin’…you don’t have to impress anybody. They gotta impress you.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him with an adoring smile, too in love with him for your own good.

“Come on, you wanna help me with the grill? Keep me company, put some cheese on some patties, hand out some hot dogs?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and proudly walked you through the party, introducing you along the way to some of his cousins as they whistled at the two of you. “See?” He leaned in to whisper to you as you stood at the grill together. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

The party went on well into the evening, Sarah still doing cannonballs into the pool with Jessie while you looked on, acting as a lifeguard. Joel was walking the last of his family out, calling cabs and arranging carpools for the drunk ones. You sat curled up on a patio chair, a dopey, content smile on your face as you watched the girls play mermaids together, reminding you of fond childhood memories of summertime.

“All gone,” Joel husked from behind you as he draped his arms over your shoulders, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek and whisper in you ear. “Think it’s time to get the girls in bed so you and I can go for a swim.”

“Yeah?” you turned, looking up at him with a bright smile. “I think that sounds nice.”

“I’ll break the news.” Joel left you to go squat down by the edge of the pool, both of the girls groaning in unison as he told them that it was well past bedtime. “It’s midnight, baby girl. Y’all can swim more tomorrow.”

Sarah finally gave in, though it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice in the matter. As soon as they wrapped themselves in their towels, both girls yawned and grew sluggish, the workout of their all-night swimming finally hitting them.

Joel walked both girls upstairs and stayed inside the house for a while, no doubt waiting for their snores to sound before coming back out to join you as you waded in the warm water. You didn’t mind the wait, choosing to spend your time floating around, your eyes closing to allow you to relish in the peace of the moment, the warm, nighttime summer breeze prickling your skin as it blew against your wet skin.

“Water bug.” Joel’s voice interrupted your floating, your head springing up to watch him as he stepped into the pool, one hand holding two bottles of beer, the other carrying two shot glosses. “Thought we’d take a celebratory shot seein’ as you made it through the last day of school.”

“That is a cause for celebration,” you agreed, accepting the beer and shot glass from his hands. You followed him over to the edge of the pool, both of you setting your beers down before holding up your glasses of silver tequila. “To Sarah being a middle-schooler.”

Joel winced and held his hand over his heart.

“Too soon, I’m not ready to accept it,” he joked. “How ‘bout…to our first summer together. First of many, that is.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t see a ring in my finger,” you teased, wiggling your ring finger at him playfully.

“Oh, I plan on fixin’ that in due time, baby. Don’t you worry.” He grinned, delighting in the fluster his words caused. “Alright, alright. To us.”

“To us.” You clinked your shot glass against his and tipped the liquor back, only gagging a little as you used your beer to wash the medicinal taste down with a shiver. “Ugh, still hate it.”

“Yeah, that used to be a hell of a lot easier.” He shuddered and took another swig of his beer before reaching for you, pulling you close in the warm water. You wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face in both hands, grinning at him like you were the happiest woman alive. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Right now—“ He shook his head and lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the side of your face. “Can’t stop lookin’ at you like this. So beautiful.”

“Are the girls asleep?” you asked, leaning in to hover your lips over his. Joel nodded, squeezing your hips to pull you closer. Planting a soft, teasing kiss to his lips, you spoke again, whispering against him. “You up for a game of Marco/Polo?”

“I…was thinkin’ we were gonna do somethin’ else, but I guess—“

“Trust me,” you purred, kissing him once more before pulling away, making him chase you. “I think you’ll like the way I play.”

“Oh, will I?” he smirked and watched you as you slowly swam away.

“You’re Marco, I’m Polo. Close your eyes.” Joel obeyed your command with his smile still wide, so playful he almost looked like a kid again. Resting his hands over his eyes for extra measure, Joel gave you a nod to signal he was ready.

“Marco!” he called as you slipped carefully towards the steps.

“Polo!” you called back, and he turned to you, his ears well-trained, it seems.

“Marco!” His smile widened, his feet walking him slowly in your direction as you stepped out of the pool as silent as the breeze warming your skin.

“Polo!” you called back, meeker than before as he neared the steps himself. Hurrying with the plan, you peeled off your bathing suit, keeping it in hand for when he called again.

“Marco…” His voice was now low, his feet padding across the patio to find you under the built-in gazebo where his singular lounge bed sat. You let the wet one piece hit the stone below your feet with a wet slap, Joel’s hands falling from his eyes as he opened them, finding you bare to only him and the moon above, the trees in his backyard shielding you from the Adler’s sight.

“Polo,” you finally replied in a purr. “Guess I lost.”

“Guess so,” he rasped, stepping to you until he was pressing his body into yours, his hands gripping at your hips and waist. “Baby, I want to fuck you out here so bad, but I can’t risk the girl’s sneakin’ out for a swim only to find us here…goin’ at it.” You nodded in understanding, resting your hand on his face as you started to feel embarrassed by your too-bold idea. “But that don’t mean I don’t want to collect my prize, darlin’. Get your towel on and get your beautiful ass upstairs.”

“Oh,” you gasped at the hunger in his eyes, not having seen him so worked up over you since the first time you slept together. The sight thrilled you with excitement.

“Go on,” he grinned, charming as ever. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Your feet propelled you into obedience, hurrying you into the house with your towel wrapped tightly around your frame, Joel’s eyes on you the entire time. You jogged upstairs and got freshened up a bit, showering off the pool water until you felt and smelled a bit more like you. While giving your legs a quick run-over with your razor, you watched the bathroom door click open, Joel’s form in the foggy glass coming into focus more and more as he walked through the steam. He was stripped down to just his smile when he opened the shower door and stepped in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Here to collect your prize?” you asked teasingly. Joel shook his head and placed a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“Just here to be with you,” he replied, soft as ever. “And then afterwards—“

“Knew it,” you chuckled, finishing your half-assed shave job before turning him into the stream of the water. Joel hissed at the temperature and turned it down a bit before soothing into it. You squeezed his body wash into your palm before rubbing it onto his chest, the white suds contrasting with his golden skin. “What were you doing downstairs?”

“Put a frozen pizza in the oven ‘cause I didn’t get any food earlier,” he replied softly, his eyes closed shut as you washed his body, your hands eventually wandering to his half-erect cock to stroke him. “Mm, your hands seem to be payin’ an awful lot of attention to that one specific area.”

“Drawn to it like a moth to a flame,” you replied, half-kidding.

“Baby,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “What do you think about…maybe spending the summer over here?”

“You mean like…move in?” Your eyes studied his thoroughly as you froze. With a nervous nod and equally timid smile, Joel nodded.

“Not…permanently, or anythin’. I know it’s soon, but…I just…I don’t wanna be without you this summer,” he confessed, cupping your cheek. “Wanna be able to wake up with you in my bed every mornin’. And, if you get tired of me, you can go back to your place. Just…I just want to soak up all the time I can before school starts back up and work gets crazy for me again.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your smile growing as you threw caution to the wind. Besides, it wasn’t permanent, and you were already staying over most nights anyways. “I’ll pack a bag tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, half-convinced he hasn’t heard you right.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip and wrapped your fist around his now fully hardened length, giving it a squeeze at the base. “I need you, Joel.”

“Here or in bed?” he asked, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“Here,” you sighed out a moan as his tongue swiped over your pulse. Joel let out a groan against your skin and nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and turning you to press your back against the wall. “We can do the extra stuff later,” you panted, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. “I just need to feel you right now.”

Joel groaned again and kept his face buried in your neck as his cock sank deep into your heat, your breath hitching as he stretched you open.

“So good,” you whispered into his ear as you kissed his sideburn, Joel’s head nodding against you earnestly as he withdrew himself and sank back inside. “Love you.”

“Love you,” he husked, lifting his head so that he could rest his forehead against yours. Sounding more desperate than before, he whined against your lips and continued fucking into you fast enough to make his heart pound in his chest, “I love you so much, baby.”

Licking his fingertips, he lowered them to your clit, rubbing over the liquor-heightened nerve endings there like he was on a mission. You bit his shoulder to muffle the sob threatening to erupt from your chest, his body working against yours like it was made just to please you. Perhaps it was.

“I’m so fucking close,” you warned, guiding his lips to yours. Joel moaned, his lips vibrating against yours as he kept at it, just adding the slightest bit more pressure. “Joel, fuck…I’m—fuck.”

“G-od,” he choked on his praise as he felt you cum for him, your walls like a vice grip around his already throbbing cock. “Baby…you want me to cum? Cum inside you? Can I?”

“Yes,” you panted, tightening your leg’s grip around his hip as it rested there, pulling him in deeper. Joel’s moans were wanton, giving your own a run for their money as he fucked into you like some sort of primative creature. You held on tightly to his shoulders as he fucked you into the wall, your feet slipping on the floor from the force of his thrusts, but he was quick to scoop you up and pin you against the tile, your knees folded over his forearms. “Holy fucking shit, Joel!”

He had you spread open, his cock drilling deeper than it ever had before in this new, punishing angle.

“That’s so fuckin’ good,” he praised, his words drawling out. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna—god damn—gonna make you mine.”

When he came, his groan was so loud, so primal, that you had to place your hand over his mouth to muffle it, though it nearly hurt you to quiet such a pretty sound. His chest heaved, his golden skin turned red from the exertion and heat of the water.

“Fuck,” he panted as he set you down onto your feet and crowded you against the cool wall of the shower once more, kissing your lips soft and sweet. “I know you’re gonna think I’m just sayin’ shit, but…sex has never felt this good, baby. With anyone.”

“No, I know what you mean. Sex before you was always so…iffy. But with you—“ You held his face in your hands and gave him a dopey grin. “It’s always perfect.”

“God,” he exhaled and shook his head at you, matching your smile. “You sure got me wrapped around your finger, don’t ya?”

“That’s okay, you usually have me wrapped around you in a couple different ways.” Joel gasped at your cheekiness befor laughing.

“I think I’m startin’ to wear off on ya.” You giggled and nodded, leaning into his kiss. “Good.”

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[beeslibrarycorner]

Jealousy Jealousy

Adam Warlock x Reader

Word count: 1004

Warnings: Smut, Fem anatomy, sex toys, vibrating appendages

Plot: Adam might be a little jealous and tries to replace something.

This was inspired by the Adam Warlock smut alphabet written by @always-andromeda, I recommend you read that before you read this. Also if you are interested in asking for something from the summer prompt list or just have an idea please send in your requests!

~MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE~

It all started when Adam found your small stash of sex toys and became curious with what they did. There were two items that really grabbed at his attention, a small bullet vibe and a g-spot stimulator.

He asked to watch how you used them and you thought it was all in good fun. You even let him use the bullet vibe so he could get an idea for how it felt, and he loved it. The both of you had a great time and you put everything back where they were supposed to be, you thought that was the end of it.

Until today…

When he walked into the bedroom where you sat at the head of the bead with your legs splayed apart, while you were reading an article about intergalactic financial issues. He said, “Y/n I don’t think you will be needing your toys anymore”. 

“What do you mean by that Adam?” You asked, looking up at him with curiosity. He smiled and stated matter of factly, “I can do this”, and his hand started to vibrate. He walked to the bed and crawled over to you, he took your phone and placed it on the bed side table.

“Can I give you a kiss?” he asked as he inched closer and you couldn't help but smile at him and nod. The kiss was short lived, you needed to know how he did that with his hand.

“How did you do that?” you asked and he smiled at you. “I manipulated the energy around me so my hand could vibrate. ” he explained.

“Would you like to see how it feels?” he asked and you smiled at him, “Yes” you said and you hated how much excitement was in your voice as you started to tug your pants and underwear off. Adam began to maneuver himself so that he was between the headboard and your warm body.

His fingers started to vibrate and he gently pressed two of his fingers against your clit and your mouth opened but nothing came out. He wrapped the other arm around your middle to secure you to him as he pleasured you.

You rested your head back against his shoulder as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You felt arousal slowly leak out of you and you heard him moan as he watched you twitch, “I wish I could taste you right now my love” he crooned.

You came seconds later with your eyes shut and your muscles tense, when everything ebbed to a stop Adam removed his fingers from your clit to wrap his other arm around you in a hug.

““Your pussy looks so needy”  he gasped, ghosting over the entrance of your opening. All you could do was lay your head back against his shoulder and nod, the comforting warmth that bled through you was too intoxicating.

“She looks like she's just begging to be stretched out” he murmured before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He slowly delved the two fingers inside of you pressing up into the spongy tissue of your vaginal canal and started vibrating his fingers. The heel of his palm slightly vibrated and was pressed up against your clit, it just felt so good. “What a desperate little thing she is” he cooed into your hair as he started to move the pace faster.

You felt your legs twitch and close a bit from everything that was happening.  Adam kept humming and cooing at you and it made everything so heightened. You hid your face in his shoulder and he gasped dramatically at you.

“Don’t hide your pretty face from me, where did my baby go? I want to hear those pretty moans come from your mouth” he crooned using his knee to push your legs open more.

You looked up at him and he smiled down at you. “You don’t need your toys anymore love all you need is me. I can make you feel so good all the time.” He said as he started to move his fingers in and out of you a bit faster.

Your orgasm was sudden and unexpected, all you could do was scream from the sheer intensity of it all. When everything went from intense to dull, he moved himself away from you and lowered you to the pillows.

Once he had you situated and comfortable, he got off the bed and he took his shirt and sweatpants off, looking over his shoulder at you when he was naked. When he got back on the bed he put one of your legs over his shoulder and gave it a quick kiss. Then he slowly put his hard cock into you and the stretch was something that you couldn't prepare yourself for.

The both of you gasped when he was fully seated within you and when he started to move your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Adam had set a hard and fast pace, his hand on your hips to try and get himself deeper.

He started to vibrate his fingers and he put them against your clit, everything became too much. Your last and final orgasm was fast and sudden and a few minutes after Adam came into you, but he still kept moving to draw everything out.

Once everything was said and done Adam pulled out and layed next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead lovingly. “That was amazing Adam” you said as you felt your body start to melt into the mattress, not being able to move much. “Thank you love” he cooed at you.

He got up after a few minutes with the intent to get the both of you clean up and ready for bed.  After getting the both of you cleaned up and ready for bed the both of you cuddled together talking about anything and everything. When you did fall asleep Adam stayed with you throughout the night, reading a book or listening to his music.

[wandanatss]

heart in hand - chapter one;

things haven't been the same since you came into my life

summary: Summer of 1995 finds you in a cafe with a new-to-town Natasha Romanov. Little do you know, this day is going to change your life.

warning(s): swearing, slight mentions of guns & bullying.

word count: 1,087 words

author's note: i don't have access to the app i use to make covers/headers/dividers for my fics, so this canva one i threw together literally five minutes ago looks good enough. the dividers i used are by @cafekitsune. reblogs would help <3 i'm open to constructive criticism! i especially hope that one anon who helped a lot earlier likes it!

It all began in the summer of ‘95, in a little shop north of town. You sat there every day for want of something to do, someone to talk to. Being the friendless nerd was fine during the school year, but in the summer you always shifted from being alone to lonely. 

Your fingers tapped out an errant beat on the countertop, and you hummed a mindless tune. Your eyes droved over the menu as though your were trying to find something you wanted; as though you hadn’t already memorized it in your countless trips to the shop. In the end, though, you picked your usual - a sandwich, a doughnut, and a Coke. Picking the items up off of the counter once you got them, you sat at the only empty table there - a two-seater near the very back, where no one could see you. Figures. Invisible everywhere in the world, it seemed.

As you started to munch on the sandwich, interspersed with sips of your drink, your eyes watched the windows. Maybe you’d have your ‘movie moment’, where someone walked in that you fell in love with. Maybe it would be the person of your dreams. You looked down for a moment to pick up the cup, and within those few seconds, the door opened and a bell jingled. You looked up.

Y/n: I don’t know, it was fate or something. This absolute bombshell of a girl walked in. Her coppery-red hair tumbled over her shoulders, her eyes were bright, and she had the perfect red lip. She wore a thin white shirt, clinging to her with sweat. Her shorts were blue, and truly made her look like she had legs for days. When she ordered and got her food, she just wandered around for a minute before she saw me. Saw the seat in front of me. She smiled, asking if she could sit. Of course, I agreed. Neither of us knew it yet, but it was the start of something truly iconic. The girl, of course, was Natasha Romanov. We were both seventeen at the time.

Excerpt from ‘Mic in Hand, Heart in Throat’ by Kat S. Releasing 1 May 2028.

You introduced yourself, and started to make small talk about the weather – sweat-soaked Natasha’s body was a sight to see, and under the A/C breeze, her hair fluttered around her face. You were flushed, but you could pass it off to the heat, too. As Natasha waved over a waitress and placed her own order (a strawberry milkshake and a sandwich), you took the time to observe her.

She had her bicycle keys in her pocket, and two bracelets hanging from her arm. One was beaded, with the little alphabet charms reading N A T in different colours. The other was a few simple strings wound together and tied, giving the effect of a young child having made it. Now that you were closer to her, you could see the bottom of her hair bleached and cool-toned, showing her having dyed it blue a while back.

“Y/n? Do you want something too?” asked Natasha, a silent smirk in her eyes. She knew what you were doing.

Eventually, once the waitress was gone, you and Natasha struck up an easy flowing conversation. She confessed that she had biked here in the heat to get out of town, have her own ‘summer experience’. She was new. That explained why she hadn’t been in high school with you. You smiled and told her all about the high school she’d likely be joining, and joked about how she should make it a point to stay away from you. It would be social suicide, you explained.

Natasha turned slightly away at the comment, something catching her eyes, but looked back with a frown on her face. 

“I think people should be lucky to know you, Y/n. You’re a good – a good friend.”

Through the chat you have with her, you discover that not only can she play the guitar, but also the drums. She can also sing, insanely well if the competition awards aren’t a lie, and she’s just a fucking dream. She gave you her home-phone number, and her address. Call me, she wrote on the paper napkin, like she was some kind of rogueish flirt and not a schoolgirl still in her teens.

You took the napkin home with you and pinned it onto a little board, fingers moving over the bumps in the paper where she had pressed too hard with the pen. Call me. Come over sometime. You smiled, idling near the telephone. Maybe you would call her later, you thought.

Natasha Romanov: Y/n, they were an interesting person. My first friend who wasn’t my sister. We’d both been adopted, and been the town freaks for a while. Yelena, she was all spite and rage packed into a little spitfire of a ten-year-old child. It didn’t help that she wanted to give her opinions freely. It was my job to protect her, and when that backfired, we had to move. This far into the story, you already know I wouldn’t be too cut up about it. I had my sister and my adoptive parents. End of fuckin’ story, right? And then the chapter turned. After I met Y/n that day, everything changed. I finally had a reason to stay in the new town. I had made a friend.

Excerpt from ‘Mic in Hand, Heart in Throat’ by Kat S. Releasing 1 May 2028.

As you lay in bed that night, all hot and bothered about the day you’ve had, words start to form in your mind. Fragments; not enough to be worth writing, but you can see where you’ve started to... well, you’ve started thinking up a song.

The next morning, you wake up from a rather pleasant dream to hammering on your bedroom door. 

“Wake up, kid! It’s time to go!”

Oh. It was your mother, a staunch stickler for early-birds-get-the-worm. You would’ve far preferred to sleep in, especially in the summer, but the thoughts from the previous night – the song you thought of – had finally almost fully formed in your mind. You were eager to pen it down in case you forgot, but first, to appease your mother, you showered and had some cereal. Then you were back in your room, ready to write.

She’s got blue hair and a pretty pink smile

Looks that can kill and hands in mine

She’s a girl she’s a gun she’s the newest chapter

She’s a dream and what my heart’s been chasin’ after…

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist! | fic tag

[spitdrunken]

thank you so much for all the rollo content,, highlight of my days, really.. for yan alphabet L, I, H and X? think X will depend quite a bit on whether reader is a mage or not tbh. rather than a sense of worship he’d feel like he’s saving them lol

notes: yandere

i’m glad you’ve been enjoying it :D!! i really like writing for rollo myself <3 a lot of my headcanons differ from mage vs. magicless reader, so honestly it’s always a bit hard to balance them HAHA i tend to focus mostly on magicless reader since mc is one, and otherwise i’d be writing two sets of headcanons for every post. pls feel free to ask for stuff with mage reader tho :3!! 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Rollo likes to think of a calm and simple future with you. In a world without magic, where no one will be senselessly harmed any longer, and he’s found peace within himself. After he’s fulfilled his ultimate goal, what more could he hope to achieve with his life? The rest of his days, he could devote to you, and never grow bored of it. He doesn’t want extravagance or excitement, just you would be enough. In his fantasies, neither of you ever has to work or leaves to meet with friends. It’s just the two of you. 

More specifically, he imagines a small, happy wedding, with one chair left empty for his little brother. He imagines living in a small home in the City of Flowers, or a cottage in walking distance from the city walls; he could never go far from his beloved city. Rollo enjoys the thought of himself baking for you, though whatever he makes will likely pale in comparison to the bakeries he loves so much.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Rollo yearns for quite a while, as he believes his personal feelings shouldn’t take precedence over his goal. None of this is your fault, and he is not upset with you for it. As his plans begin to fall more and more into place, he may be more likely to approach you. Before that, he still watches you whenever he has the chance, and zones out if you’re in his field of vision. He has extensive notes on you, your likes and dislikes, your family tree, and all of your social connections. If he’s particularly smitten, you could find yourself having a ‘secret admirer’, leaving letters in flawless handwriting accompanied by a croissant or some local sweets.  

Once he finally makes up his mind to approach you, he can hardly contain himself. His hands are folded behind his back, otherwise you would see how much he’s fidgeting. Rollo’s face is as calm as it would be at any other time. If not for the blush creeping onto his face, you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was amiss. 

“May I have a moment of your time?” He would say, lightly bowing his head. Rollo would ask you out on a date, or an ‘outing’ as he calls it, promising to show you all of the beauty the city has to offer, and ensuring you’ll enjoy yourself. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Sweat beads on your forehead, despite your distance from the fire. Rollo is pressed against your back as he leans his full weight against you, his chest stuttering with how fast he’s breathing. He’s clutching the railing so tightly that his knuckles are white. Below you, the world has descended into a hellscape of flames, yelling, and raw desperation. Some of them are your friends, and some of them you might not have known as well, but still- You cannot believe they were deserving of this fate. He presses his face against you. Rollo is shaking all over, and so does his voice.

“As foolish as they are... These villains’ salvation is truly a beautiful sight to behold, isn’t it?”

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

You are different from him. Where he is inherently cursed, burdened by magic, you are pure and clean existence. The sinner, and the saint, extending their hand to him in their endless mercy. Though he wouldn’t go as far as to directly worship you, he very much considers you as more valuable and worthy than himself. Even once he is fully ‘cleansed’, he’d continue to be hard on himself when it comes to you. He takes your opinion of him very, very seriously. 

If you were to deny him, you would really be putting him in a tough position. Rollo feels guilty about placing the burden of his feelings on you, but he can’t rid himself of them either. You’ve rooted yourself in his mind, and he cannot get you out. He would try to become friends with you instead, trying to convince himself that it would be enough, all the while lying to himself. Rollo would constantly be teetering on the edge of giving in. There would come a moment he would snap and give into temptation, apologising while he does so and forever cursing himself, but secretly being glad to finally being able to touch you.

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Y for your alphabet prompts plz! (btw found your blog from AO3, loving the chapters so far)

aw thanks for reading, anon! <3

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: Y | prompt: yuletide | wc: 1.3k | a/n: Jack/Emily fluff and Christmas content before Halloween because it’s still 85°F where I am and I’m trying to manifest cooler temps/holiday spirit. I wrote the first iteration of this in 2011(!). Needless to say, substantial tweaks went into this version because coming back to your writing 13 years later is humbling, let me tell ya.

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

Emily had barely taken three steps into the bullpen when she heard Hotch call out to her.

“Prentiss, can I see you in my office, please?”

JJ and Morgan shared a conspiratorial glance. “Oooh, someone’s in trouble,” the latter teased. Emily responded with an eye roll and a good-natured shut up, Derek, then dumped her bag in her desk chair to make her way to the man who was summoning her, though not before sparing a longing glance at the fresh pot of coffee in the corner of the bullpen. She slowed her ascent of the stairs, however, when she heard Rossi chuckling at her from his office.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed, a vague yet omniscient quirk to his lips.

Emily looked at him suspiciously before pushing Hotch’s door open. “Hey, you wanted to see me?”

She hardly had time to register the sight in front of her before a seven-year-old blur precariously set down a full glass of orange juice and pounced into her arms. “Miss Emmy!”

“Oof,” she grunted as the boy collided into her. Grinning widely, she picked him up and spun him around. “Hey there, buddy! How are you?”

Jack wrapped his arms securely around her neck. “Good! I got you something,” he said with a smile that was so like his father’s.

“You did?” She gasped theatrically. “But we already celebrated my birthday!”

Jack nodded excitedly before motioning for her to set him on his feet. Fishing through his pocket, he pulled out a necklace with a plastic snowflake charm and other tiny beads held together by thick blue string and handed it to her. It was then that Emily noticed the crudely cut paper chain of snowflakes lining Hotch’s bookshelf. “Wow, you two, it looks like Christmas in here.”

“A certain someone couldn’t wait two months for snow and presents,” Hotch quipped with a small laugh.

The boy in question beamed. “So, I made my own snow!”

“Well, I think your snowflakes are beautiful. And as for the necklace,” Emily kneeled to his height and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love it. Thank you very much, Jack.”

He bit his lip and blushed a deep pink, watching with wide eyes as she put his gift on. “You’re welcome.”

Finally moving out from behind his desk, Hotch stood and closed the distance between them in measured strides. Running a hand through his son’s sandy hair, he said, biting back his smile, “Jack has a question for you.”

If possible, Jack’s expression brightened even further. “When are you going to come over, Emmy? I miss you.”

Emily’s heart did a little flip at his sweet words, then another when she and Hotch shared a brief but suggestive glance. “That’s up to your daddy, honey.”

“Well, Daddy?” Jack asked expectantly, his eyes wide.

Emily has both Hotchner boys wrapped around her little finger, Hotch thought fondly. He cocked his head to the side appraisingly. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

--

Emily eyed Jack as he yawned for the third time. “Looks like it someone’s PJ time.”

Jack frowned. “But I don’t wanna go to sleep. I want to stay up so we can play.”

“Honey, you’re practically falling asleep standing up. How about this? Go wash your hands—I can still see pizza sauce on them,” she said, and Jack giggled, “then brush your teeth and I’ll be there in a minute to tuck you in. Okay?”

“Will you at least read me a bedtime story?”

“Jack,” Hotch warned gently from his spot at the kitchen sink, where he was washing their dinner plates, “why don’t we let Miss Emily relax? She’s had a long day, buddy.”

“It’s okay,” Emily assured. “I’d love to read you a story, Jack.” Jack rubbed his eyes sleepily but his grin at Emily’s words was wide as ever.

“And what do we tell Miss Emily for picking up dinner?” Hotch prompted.

“Thank you,” Jack said dutifully, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly.

“You are very welcome. Now hurry on to your room and pick a story before I change my mind,” she teased.

He was off with a yelped okay, okay! before Emily could so much as blink.

Teeth minty fresh and hands no longer sticky, Jack eagerly curled up beneath the covers and clicked on his bedside lamp, casting their shadows onto the wall. “So,” Emily said with a soft smile, “what book are we reading tonight, Mr. Jack?”

“I dunno. Anything to do with snow.”

“Boy, you really want Christmas to be here, don’t you?” Emily asked, scanning his small bookshelf for promising titles.

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded. “Because of our special visitor!”

“Santa?”

“No,” the boy giggled. “You, Miss Emmy. Are you gonna come over on Christmas like last year? Daddy says you make Christmas real special for us.”

“Well, your daddy is very sweet,” Emily replied, her cheeks warming. “We’ve got a while ‘til Christmas, but once we’re closer to the big day, if it’s okay with your daddy, I’ll be here.”

Satisfied, Jack burrowed further beneath his mountain of blankets. Finally, Emily found the picture book she had been looking for and pulled it off of the shelf with a flourish, then moved to sit at the foot of the boy’s bed. “Now close your eyes and try to get some sleep.” Clearing her throat, she began. “T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house—”

“—not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse! This is my favorite.”

“I know it is, silly,” Emily laughed, pinching his nose softly and causing more giggles to spill forth. “Now sleep.”

Jack said nothing, just obeyed, her voice an excellent lullaby.

“The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…”

--

“Hey, you.”

Hotch looked up at the sound of her voice, then smiled and handed her a generously filled glass of her favorite red wine as she plopped down on the couch beside him. “Hey.”

Accepting the drink gladly, she curled up against his side and let out a long sigh. “You were right earlier; today really has been a long day.”

He snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. “Especially for you. I still don’t understand why you insisted on finishing all of your reports before we left.”

She snorted. “Hypocrite. Besides,” she took a long sip of the heady wine, “I wanted to spend my weekend doing someone—I mean, something—else.”

Hotch chuckled at her very intentional slip of the tongue. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Slowly, Emily placed her glass onto the nearby coffee table then set her chin atop his shoulder, her breath ghosting against his cheek. "Mmm, nothing," she answered coyly.

“That sure doesn’t feel like nothing.” He grunted as her lips traveled from his cheekbone to the underside of his jaw, then the hollow of his throat. “Emily…”

Covering his mouth with hers, she silenced him with a coaxing, teasing kiss. “Have I answered your question yet?”

“Just about,” Hotch replied breathlessly, guiding her backwards until she was spread across the couch’s entire length and he was hovering over her.

“I have something for you,” she whispered against his lips.

He slid a large hand to her back and pulled her body flush against his, reveling in the experience of her; even though they'd been together for just over a year, sharing space and time with her like this was still a luxury, one he doubted he would ever get used to. “I’ll say.”

Emily trailed her fingers down his chest, eventually coming to rest at his hip. “Undress me,” she clarified, her doe eyes already nearly-black with want.

Hotch obeyed without hesitation and felt his breath catch in the back of his throat as he reached the last button and pushed apart her blouse. “Jesus,” he breathed approvingly.

She laughed, low and sultry. “I take it you’re a fan.”

“You know I can’t get enough of you in red.” He dropped his lips to the swell of a breast, peppering kisses along the edge of her scarlet-hued bra. She rewarded him with a surprised exhalation as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin, and the sound traveled straight between his legs.

“It’s like I’m your very own Christmas present, just waiting to be unwrapped,” she purred.

“Thank goodness the holiday came early, then.”

[0oolookitsme]

A Routine

Type- Blurb :)

Verse- Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n

Word Count- 961

Warnings- None!

A/N- Legit the most plotless, intention less, and scene less little blurb you'll ever read. Sorry in advance babes, but bear with me- I'm slowly getting out my writing slump and I'm still in it from head down sooo yeah! Hope you enjoy something about this hahah <3

The sun had just begun to set when Y/n came in from her daily walk. Sweat was dripping down her face, and down her belly as well -- she could feel the beads slipping. The baseball cap she had stolen from Harry's closet hadn't done anything to prevent her skin from sunburning, giving her a reason to mock him for his shitty cap.

Karan squealed as she sat him down to take off his shoes, 'it tickles!' he says. Once done, she lets him climb funnily up the stairs and she followed after him, climbing up slowly with her hand stuck on her belly.

"Slow down there, bub. You seem entirely too energized," she sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be an easy kid to put to sleep tonight.

As soon as the boy reached the top of the stairs, he put his arms up towards her with grabbing hands, babbling on 'mumma-mumma.' Y/n knew what it meant; it was like a daily routine now. They would come home from their walk, he would climb up the stairs, and then ask to her to remove his clothes so that he can go and sit in a bath.

Picking him up with a grunt, she clung him onto her side before moving towards his room. "Gone exactly on your dad, haven't ya? Can't be sweaty for more than a minute," she shook her head with a smile on her face. Though she was quick to tickle him once he giggled, he was quicker to get up and stand on his bed.

She took of his clothes and before he could jump down, she attacked him with the kisses that 'made a funny sound.'

Giggling and a little out of breath, he slipped his body down the bed and quickly walking towards his bathroom.

He had been walking for about 3 weeks now and seeing him walk that fast made Y/n realize that he was soon going to start running too. She slowly walked out of his room, lost and feeling like it was just yesterday that she was moisturizing his knees after all the crawling he had done for the day.

She walked to her room with light feet, going straight to the bathroom and stripping her clothes as the bath filled with water. She had to be quick, because Karan showers quickly and tends to talk to the baby in her belly, just like he had seen Harry do it.

Harry too should be home anytime now, and he too would want to jump in the bath right away after the exhausting practice.

But just as she sits in the bath, the warm water feels so good against her skin that she leans back in the tub, closing her eyes shut once sure that her body was covered with bubbles. The big belly came just a tad-bit above the water level, shining through.

Moving her hands up and down her belly, she sighed with the feeling of contentment. Her brain couldn't help but think about all the different things that she'd buy for this baby, including the matching jumper that all three of them have. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear Karan walking into her room.

"Mum! Fast!" she heard him whine, laughing when he continued with a 'please!'

"Coming bubba! Just a minute!"

It didn't take her long after that to clean the suds off her body and do the other things that she should've already done. Knowing there was a boy squirming outside the door, impatiently waiting for her to read a fairytale to him and the little baby that hasn't even kicked yet.

In a green bathrobe, she went outside only to find Karan sitting on the bed, suddenly busy in organizing the alphabet cards in order. That was enough to distract him long enough for Y/n to quickly rub her skincare products on her face while she rung Harry.

"Yeah, hi... Do you plan on returning home today?"

"Was just about to ring the bell!" His guilty voice echoed in the small room, making her chuckle lightly. "Bye to you too" he trailed off, ending the call shortly after.

After that the long night followed by, with Y/n roasting vegetable and making tacos while Harry started his part of housework by doing the dishes, cleaning the slabs and warming up Karan's bottle milk. "I can't believe this. Feels like just yesterday he needed us to feed him and today he's ready to eat a soft freaking tortilla cut in half!"

Ever since Y/n has gotten pregnant again, it's more often that they realize how fast Karan is growing up. Already preparing for the second baby's meal plans and late nights spent in trying to shush their crying, makes them feel like what is Karan doing, if not pooping in his clothes, spilling whatever he eats down his chin?

It's weird, to see him give them signs when he's about to poop and tell them when he wants to eat ice-cream. The one word he clearly spoke the most often, was 'mumma!' It was his first word even, and now he can conjure up words in quite an order to get his message across.

It took some time for Karan to go to sleep as he stubbornly wanted to listen to the whole story. But that also meant that he was out like a light the moment Harry switched the lights off of his room.

Tagging: @reveriehs <3 MASTERLIST :)

[mothermara]

how is michaels selling alphabet beads for 10 dollars fr a small pouch. im going to kill someone

[beachbabey]

i just wanna hold onto rhett’s hand while he’s wearing his ‘daddy’ bracelet you made him and looking at it with bambi eyes and he notices you looking at it and smiles down at you.

“you okay, bambi?”

“daddy!” you squeal, holding onto the bracelet.

rhett leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead with a soft smile.

“yeah, that’s me little one. it’s a sweet reminder i love looking at everyday.”

eeek sorry this took so long, it takes me forever to finish requests now, I hope you like it! 💕💕💕🥺🥺💕💕

c/w: regression/little!space, fluff

word count: 735

When Rhett got home from work, you were waiting eagerly on the sofa. You’d been little all day, which wasn’t a problem. You and Rhett had both made sure your apartment was baby-proofed and that you had plenty of activities within your reach to keep you busy while he worked on the Ranch. You’d been able to entertain yourself for a while with colouring and watching cartoons, but as the sun started to set, casting a golden hue throughout the entire kitchen, you wanted nothing more than for Rhett to be home. You're laid curled up with your head on the arm of the couch, snapping to a sitting position as soon as you heard his key turn in the lock.

“Daddy’s home!!” You cheered, jumping up and running into his open arms.

“Oh hi bambi!” Rhett said, lifting you up and pressing your face into his neck. Today had been a long and boring day, and he’d missed you from the moment he pulled out of the driveway in the morning. 

You nuzzled into him, humming with satisfaction. After a moment, Rhett set you back down and gave you a pat on the head, ruffling up your hair. You turn your head to the side, seeing the pastel little charms around his wrist, it was the bracelet you made him last week, using pastel and alphabet beads, spelling "Dada" in bright blue letters.

"Dada!! you kept it on?" you gasp, looking up at him, a big smile spreading on your cheeks

"Course I did baby!! We pinky promised remember?"

His reply makes you squeal and clap your hands, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his chest

"Love you Dada" your voice muffled into his shirt, happily swaying side to side

“I love you too bambi” He hums with a little grin on his face. You take your face away from his chest and look up at him, your eyebrows knitted in confusion

“Dada, why do you call me bambi?? I‘m not a deer!”

“Oh, are you sure?” Rhett argued back.

“You look like bambi!”

“I do?” 

“Well, you’re cute like bambi.”

He pets your hair, tickling a bit behind your ears and making you giggle.

“Hmm, you’re soft like bambi too!”

“I’m not bambi Daddy!, I’m a baby!” You laughed, dodging his hands as he tried to run his hands over your ribs.

“You’re fast like Bambi! I can’t keep up with you!” Rhett chuckles as he chases you into your bedroom. 

You jumped onto the bed, rolling over on your side and flopping down onto the mattress. You giggled, unfurling from your position and reaching out your limbs in a long overdue stretch. Your whole face scrunched up as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn. You looked up at Rhett with droopy eyes, and he patted the mattress next to him. 

“I think you're like Bambi too. You're brave, just like him, dada. Make me feel safe, my hero,” you told him, your speech slows as the tiredness set in, crawling over to him and perching on his lap, leaning to press a soft kiss against his forehead before he could even reply.

"Daddy's handsome too” you whispered.

“I think your opinion's biased, angel.” His cheeks burn in your hands.

“Don't care, I think you're wonderful, Dada,” you smile up at him.

He gives you a small smile, tears beading in the corners of his eyes at your comment

“No crying Dada, please no crying!” you said hurriedly as you throw your arms around his shoulders. Squeezing him as tight as you could.

“I’m sorry, little one, you’re just so kind and sweet, and sometimes Daddy wonders if he’s good enough for you,” he admits softly, wiping his nose with his sleeve and pressing a firm kiss to the side of your head.

"Dada's always enough for me, don't want anybody else," you say as you pull away to rest your forehead against his

No matter how hard you fought it, sleep was taking over. With watery eyes, Rhett carefully rolls you over to your side of the bed and tucks himself into your side, his arm wrapping over your stomach as you squirm and get comfortable, slipping your paci into your mouth and tracing a finger over the apple of your cheek

“I love you bambi, Daddy loves you so so much ”

[alexagirlie]

September Song Challenge

Day 16: the first song alphabetically on your playlist

Beyond the Hourglass by I am Ghost Fandom: The Last Kingdom Rating: M Finan/Sihtric, implied past Finan/Sihtric/Uhtred warnings/tags: character death. battle. afterlife. happy ending.

Finan knew they never should have ridden out. They should have left the fighting to younger men but the pride and stubbornness of a warrior had won out. Plus, Sihtric had been quick to point out that the battlefield is the best path to death, a worthy end even at their age. He was a dane to the end after all.

It was just a small raid, nothing their forces couldn't handle but it only took one slip, one misstep for an enemy's blade to prove fatal.

He felt the sharp, burning pain of steel piercing flesh under the edge of his armour causing him to falter. This gave the enemy warrior he was fighting a chance to land several more brutal blows before Finan collapsed to the dirt and could not force his old body to get back up. The enemy leaves him there with a hard kick to the ribs that steals his breath.

He watched as Sihtric was struck down trying to come to Finan's aid and he was helpless to stop it. To protect the only one he had left. The dane desperately parried several strikes before he took a hard blow to the side of the head from the enemies ax and went down in a heap of leather and steel and didn't move. 

They were near the edge of the battlefield and once the enemy warrior had moved on they were alone. No friend or foe nearby and Finan was able to painfully drag his broken body over to the other man and rolled him over onto his back.

Sihtrics eyes were open but hazy and unfocused with pain and his chest barely moved. He had a gaping bloody gash across the side of his head and Finan could see bone and knew there would be no recouvery.

His own wound in his side burned, as if to remind him that he would not be leaving the battlefield either.

Finan sobbed and he used what bit of strength he had left to drag Sihtric to a nearby tree and he pulled his lover's head into his lap as he braced himself against the wood. He made sure the man's seax was firmly in hand and his own hand was wrapped around his own sword before he finally let himself accept that it was time to join Uhtred in the afterlife.

Flashback

"Sihtric, would your gods accept me in death?" Finan was lying in bed after being injured in a skirmish with sea raiders a few days prior and was struggling to accept that he would never see heaven. His sins were too great and no amount of confession and penance would fix that.

The response was immediate, Sihtric tone amused. "You're not dying, you fool." The younger man had been at Finan's side, playing nursemaid and keeping him company.

Finan shook off his melancholy and rolled his eyes at his youngest lover. "If I was dying then?"

Sihtric took Finans hands in both of his and raised it to his lips for a soft kiss. "You would be welcomed gladly to feast and drink in Odin's Hall, Finan, and Uhtred and I would join you in time. You are worthy."

Finan smiled up at the other man and used Sihtric's hold to tug him down for a proper kiss. Maybe he would not see heaven but he could spend the eternity of the afterlife with the men he loved most in the world.

End flashback

Finan had made peace with God years ago, made peace with the fact that he would not be going to heaven but would join Sihtric and Uhtred in Valhalla.

Night had fallen and a shooting star flashing across the night sky was the last thing Finan saw as he finally closed his eyes and his heart stopped beating.

.

.

He opened eyes and the world was dark when suddenly a doorway opened in front of him. Warm light and laughter spilled through and he could see a figure standing just inside. As he walked closer he could make out dark curls braided through with silver beads, mischievous mismatched eyes and the wide toothy grin that always gave away Sihtric's elation. 

His lover was a young man again and a quick investigation of his own body showed no wrinkles, no age spots and muscles he hadn't possessed since he was a much younger man himself.

He stepped through the door and grinned at Sihtric before they both turned to observe the room they found themselves in.

It was a grand hall, it went on and on and Finan could not see the other end. It was filled to bursting with warriors and many of the faces looking back at them were people they had known in life. Haeston, Earl Ragnar, Clapa and finally, finally the man he had wanted to see most, Uhtred. Their lord and lover wrapped them in his arms and Finan felt complete.

taglist: @softhecreator @almostg @gatoenlaciudad